𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ━━━ ✧ ⋆ （ acotar ）

✧ ˚ 𝐯. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

✧ ˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 they were invited to attendㅡwhich Asteria was grateful for as she didn't particularly wish to stay in Tamlin's presence more than she needed to, nor did she find Lucien's company all that pleasant.

She bit her lip anxiously as she noticed Feyre slip a knife into her sleeve. Tamlin was too distracted by Lucien ranting about a malfunction in his magical eye to notice the movement. He paused, smirking when he saw that Feyre was eyeing his sword carefully.

"Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

Feyre blinked at him as if she hadn't even realized she was doing it. "Of course not."

Lucien's lazy, vicious grin did not ease at her answer, and Asteria's gaze dropped to her sister's lap, where Feyre was thumbing at the fabric of her pants again.

Tamlin observed them carefully from across the room, the golden flecks of his eyes glowing a molten color in the firelight. He broke the silence with, "Feyre likes to hunt."

"I don't like to hunt," Feyre snapped immediately. Asteria cringed internally as she glanced at Tamlin. "I hunted out of necessity. And how did you know that?"

"Why else were you in the woods that day? You had a bow and arrows in your... house. When I saw your father's hands, I knew he wasn't the one using them." He gestured to Feyre's calloused hands. "You told him about the rations and money from pelts. Faeries might be many things, but we're not stupid. Unless your ridiculous legends claim that about us, too."

Feyre didn't say anything, staring down at the breadcrumbs on her plate. Lucien cleared his throat. "How old are you two, anyway?"

"I'm nineteen," Feyre answered.

"So young," Lucien clicked his tongue. "Yet a skilled killer already."

When he turned to her, the youngest Archeron murmured, "Seventeen."

His eyes widened behind his mask, and for some reason, her cheeks heated in embarrassment. They were children compared to immortals.

"She turns eighteen in the first bit of Spring," Feyre added, as if it helped any. Her tongue swept across her lips as she jutted her chin towards Lucien's sword. "So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?"

The redheaded fae male smirked. "We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelingsㅡ"

"Didn't..." Tamlin interrupted, his voice surprisingly gentle. In that moment, Asteria could nearly forget that beast he hid within. "Didn't your mother tell you about us?"

She and Feyre exchanged a forlorn glance. Asteria's voice was quiet as she answered, "She died before she had time to."

For once, Lucien didn't laugh. After a pause, Tamlin asked, "How did she die?"